"CHRISTABEL"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 1 July 1939, Page 12

"CHRISTABEL"

Published by Special Arrangement.

Copyright.

By

PEARL BELLAIRS.

(Author of “Velvet and Steel,” “The Prisoner’s Sister,” etc.)

CHAPTER XI. (Continued). -That seems—rather unfortunate, doesn't it?" said Christabel, quietly, wondering as she looked at him, what his fiancee would have thought if she could have heard him. Or Hewitson. for that matter. "Yes, I suppose it. does!" said Dr Sanders, frowning. He lighted a cigarette with fingers that shook slightly; and sat back in his chair, venturing to look at her shame-facedly, as though it was a relief to have got his confession over. “I thought you were engaged to Molly Hewitson." “Yes, I am!” "Then don’t you think that she might—?” Christabel left the suggestion unfinished, and looked at him inquiringly. Dr Sanders flushed darkly. “I’m an utter cur! But I only told you because I don't know what to do about it. I tell you I love you. Christabel!” He made the last statement with a sort of violence, as though it was a fact which altered everything. “You know nothing about me," said Christabel. “For all you know, I may be married.” He put that aside with a movement of his hand, and merely repeated doggedly: “You might be anything—l’d feel just the same about you.” But her thoughts were of Hewitson. One could see how fond Hewitson was of Molly, it showed in every look and word he gave his siste, however careless his tone might be. "With a lift of her finger she could take him away from Molly Hewitson, break their engagement, ruin the friendship between Sanders and Hewitson —in fact, make Hewitson suffer!

“It’s pretty ghastly to get into such a state of conflict.” Sanders, was telling her ruefully. “I don’t know, about Molly, I mean! What I’m to do. There’s our engagement, you see. I feel such a cur. But she wouldn't keep me to it —she’s such a decent soul, she’d understand. Oh, what am I saying? I’m an utter fool, I don’t even know that you've the slightest interest in me, and I’m talking like this!” He ended in utter self-abasernent. Christabel’s eyes glittered darkly in her face as she gazed at him. There was so much of unspoken significance in them that Dr Sanders thought for one wild moment that she was going to say that she cared for him, after all. But she was thinking of Molly Hewitson, of her bright, undaunted being her faithful love, her youth as yet unsuspicious of the tricks life can play— She rose with an abruptness that startled hirn. “You must be mad!” she said, in a low. vehement voice, glancing about to see that they were not. overheard. “How could you have told me this? It’s a mere nothing a passing thing! Go back to Molly Hewitson and never let her know that you let her down!” Dr Sander’s fresh face went white with chagrin, and he rose with difficulty as though winded by the blow. “I’m sorry,” Christabel went on in a kindlier tone. “But you must see how impossible it is! I’ll go now; I shouldn’t have come here with you. Please don’t come with me, I’ll be able to get a bus outside!” She turned and made her way quickly out of the restaurant, leaving him behind, foi’ he had to.settle the bill. But he overtook her a few yards along the pavement. Miss Collet, let me take you home. You can’t got like this!" “I must," said Christabel. "I would rather, anyhow." He crossed the road and stood beside her. hatless and pale iti his evenclothes, while she waited for her omnibus.

“I’m sorry," he said, speaking calmly enough. ‘‘Sorry I annoyed you again. But what you say about Molly, about our engagement —that’s different. I do regard you as I told you. and I don’t see how J can honestly go on with Molly!" Christabel tried not to hear; tried to protest; and ended by getting hastily on a bus, leaving him to get the better of his wretchedness as best he could. CHAPTER XII. On the following afternoon, as she went about her duties. Christabel was still haunted by the incident. Why worry about doing Molly Hewitson an injury? She felt herself a fool, suffering as she had from human ruthlessness, to be so scrupulous herself. Then, too, she bad been lonely for so long. At times now her loneliness was intolerable! She tidied the consul ling room and the office with thoughts that she had not. had on the evening before. Outside in the hot noisy street it was one of those summer days when the sun has a brazen glow through the London haze, and a nameless nostalgia creeps into the blood. Not far away an organ grinder struck up his tune, haltingly grinding out a waltz she had danced to too often in the old days, when life was a bright expectation—centuries ago. Her thoughts were more distracted than ever by the fact that it was Sanders’ afternoon at the clinic. But. the secretary, Mr Mortimer, came in soon after two, and created a diversion. "Good afternoon, Miss Collet! Phew this is vile weather for being in London. Oh. and that reminds me —now’s your chance to get away into the country for a fortnight if you want to!" It appeared that the nurse who had worked at the clinic before Christabel had sometimes changed places with a girl who job was in a children’s holiday camp which Arthur Cavanagh financed in Kent, The girl had written

to the secretary saying that she wanted to come to town for dental treatment, and asking if Christabel would be willing to exchange jobs with her for a fortnight.. “I might do it," said Cnristabel. pondering. “Could I let you know?" “You can have her letter, and reply to her just as you like," said Mortimer. “It makes no difference to me. The camp is in the grounds of Kearne Hall, which is Cavanagh’s country place, so if you mant to marry a millionaire, Miss Collet, you’d better go down and snaffle him,” he added facetiously. “Do you think 1 might marry a millionaire if I tried?” said Christabel, mildly imitating his tone. He looked at her with a grin on his round red face, but said with what seemed conviction: "You might marry anybody!” Christabel ,did nqt say whether she would go or not. Mortimer collected some work and left. Patients began to arrive, and half an hour later Dr Sanders came. He was pale and looked profoundly uncomfortable; Christabel happened to bo coming out of the consulting room as he came in; he said nothing, but as they passed one another he gave her a long look and did more for himself by that single moment of wretched silence than he could have done by an hour's pleading. While he was seeing his patients, Christabel was considering whether she should go clown to Kent. If she was really determined to discourage him it was the best opportunity she could have had. After the last patient had gone? she listened, half expecting that Sanders would go also, without seeing her. She wished he would —because it would have relieved her of all doubt. But he came into the office.

She gazed at him in quiet inquiry. With an air of apology, he said: "1 won’t keep you. I only wanted to say a word or two!” “Perhaps you’d like your usual cup of tea,” said Christabel, feeling that there was no reason to be unkind. He brightened gratefully, though he still looked heavily depressed. Nothing was said as Christabel put on the kettle. . Al last, as she was' putting out the cups, he began: "I really want to apologise! I made an awful fool of myself—and a cur. too. You were quite right about Molly. But I wanted to explain to you. I wanted you to understand what I’ve been through!" Christabel listened sympathetically enough while he told her of all that he had been feeling—how irresistibly attracted he had been how the conflict between his obsession and his sense of honour had slowly worn him out until lie could no longer conceal it. “Today I've got hold of myself, 1 shan’t—-you won’t near any more nonsense from me, 1 promise you.” The door was standing ajar, and footsteps sounded in the passage; Christabel, taking them to be those of the woman who came to clean the place out, paid no attention. Dr Sanders heard them also and paused a moment before going on in a lower voice. "Now I've told you, it’s not so bad. But I’ve never been so frightfully in love before in my life. I had no idea that a thing like that! could get hold of one sd.” He was standing near to her; tensity in his pose," and in every tone of his voice. A sound, a movement perhaps, made Christabel look round. The door of the consulting room had been noiselessly opened, Hewitson was standing there, looking at them both. Sanders turned crimson. Christabel, not knowing how long he had been there was disconcerted herself: the unexpected heart turn over at the best of times. “Hello!” he said. The casualness of his manner was not assumed quite quickly enough to hide the startled understanding in his eyes; "I came down for some work I left here.” He added coolly, “Have you seen some notes m a blue folder, Miss Collet?” Christabel went into the consulting room and found them for him in the drawer of the desk; he did not speak to Sanders, bul turned and followed her. “Thanks!" lie said, as she gave thorn to hirn. His face was hard. He walked out without another word. Christabel went back into the office. Sanders looked at her in dismay. “Did he heard what I was saying?” “I think so.” Christabel told him gravely. “I mustn’t stay!" said Sanders. “I must go!" He turned to do so, hesitated, with what would have been a last glance of despairing appeal, if Christabel had not said hurriedly: "You may be able to put things right. I suggest that, you go and see Molly immediately and take her out somewhere. And then wnen you see Hewitson, tell him that you would like to marry Molly as soon as possible! He can’t think anything then."

(To be Continued.)